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Could I kiss her? Would she welcome that?
“I’ll be a complete gentleman, of course,” I say, and I’m not sure which of us I’m trying to convince. Either way, maybe if I declare it out loud, it will be true. “But if you’d be more comfortable with a friend there, feel free to bring someone.”
Maybe she will. Maybe she should.
This young woman has a powerful effect on me, like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I’m drawn to her, tugged on an invisible string. It’s been less than a day, and already the thought of leaving her presence pains me.
Not that I’d ever force my company on her. I’d never do anything to upset this woman. But if the feeling is mutual… if she’s drawn to me at all…
“No,” Penny says, her eyes twinkling as she smiles. “I think I’ll come alone.”
Oh. Yes, alright.
“It will be late.” My brain has short-circuited, filled with delighted buzzing, and I wince as I hear my own words. When did I get so stilted? Have I always been this awkward? “So perhaps bring your pajamas and toothbrush. Naturally, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Her lips press together, like she’s fighting back a laugh. Can hardly blame her. “Naturally.”
“Knock on my door anytime after dinner. I’ll be there, and we can… explore the hotel after hours. If you’d like.”
She nods quickly, another lock of brown hair slipping free from her bun. My fingers twitch to tuck it behind her ear, but I ball my hands into fists in my pockets instead.
“Maybe you’ll find more inspiration,” Penny says.
“Perhaps.”
“And maybe I’ll finally see something. Something otherworldly.” She’s practically levitating off the floorboards with excitement, her cheeks glowing. When she throws her arms around me, it knocks the air from my lungs.
She’s… hugging me. Pressing that perfect body against mine, sealing us together in this empty corridor, where there’s no one to see us except the gargoyles.
Fuck.
Brain screaming, I force my arms to work and hug her back. She’s so soft, and she smells like lavender.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Arthur!”
“We may not see anything,” I say, voice gruff, because I can’t bear the thought of her being disappointed after this. Even if I have to drag one of these creepy gargoyles by the stone ear, I swear to god: Penny will get her encounter.
“Still,” she says into my chest, her whole body trembling with excitement. Her nose fits perfectly in the hollow of my throat, and her hair is silky beneath my chin. “It’s going to happen, I can feel it.”
“Possibly. But perhaps, rather than get your hopes up—”
“Too late!” Penny steps back with a laugh, her cheeks even pinker than before. Her dress is extra creased from our hug, and the feather duster lies forgotten at our feet. “You’re my lucky charm, Arthur Carstairs, I’m sure of it. If you can’t help me with this, no one can.”
That is an awful lot of pressure. And as I watch her skip away with the feather duster, my heart sinks.
What if we don’t see anything?
What if I’m doomed to disappoint this woman?
Damn. Have I ruined this already?
Three
Penny
I fly home at the end of my shift, scarf down a ham sandwich, scrub myself under a tingly, scalding shower, then spend way too long picking out tonight’s outfit. Every piece of clothing that I own ends up tossed across my bed, and I march back and forth along the rug like an army general surveying the troops.
It’s no use. Everything I own suddenly seems too baggy or too tight, too faded or too new. Too drab to wear around a man who makes all my nerve endings sparkle, or too bright and flashy for the skulking we have planned.
